A Year at the Inn
By Nancy H. Rosenberg
(The Dallas Morning News, 12 December 2021)
A year ago, I began an internship as a marriage and family therapist at The Samaritan Inn, Collin County’s largest homeless shelter, which is in McKinney. What a year it has been.
The Samaritan Inn is much more than just a shelter. It is a transitional housing program that helps residents find work, transportation, health care, education, childcare and a host of other needs. Each resident meets weekly with a caseworker and a counselor, and residents are required to take classes in managing finances, soft skills, and job interviewing.
Residents have to be drug-free, physically able to work, and willing to abide by rules that are sometimes inconvenient, such as strict curfew, random drug testing, and room checks.
There are around 200 residents at any given time, including families, children, and singles. They stay anywhere from a few days to a year. All meals are provided. Singles live four to a room; each family has a single room. The building itself is large, functional, and beautiful. In spite of sometimes-onerous requirements, there is dignity in living at the Inn.
And sometimes there is magic.
The past year has been punctuated by moments of grace that I never before could have imagined. One of the most poignant moments happened in a staff meeting, as a potential resident was being discussed.
“No doubt, this person has a lot of challenges ahead and will tax the caseworkers and counselors,” an administrator said. “Let’s take a vote.”
Every hand shot up in a vote to let the person in.
The administrator smiled and nodded. “Yes. This is what we do.”
Before working at the Inn, I had no idea what caseworkers did. Now, I can tell you unequivocally that they are the hands of God. They step into the gap to help residents with everything from filling out paperwork to helping find job opportunities to helping arrange childcare to shuttling residents back and forth for medical appointments. They see needs and they work creatively and heroically to fill them.
The work is never-ending and exhausting, physically and emotionally, but these brave souls roll up their sleeves every single day and work their hardest to help the most vulnerable and neediest among us. They are heroes.
There is an army of support staff and volunteers that keep the wheels turning. From meal prep to security to sorting donations to groundskeeping and maintenance, the list of what people do behind the scenes to keep the Inn running smoothly is impressive.
The IC (information center) is staffed 24 hours a day and monitors residents as they come and go, answering questions and helping residents with everything from medication to laundry.
I know most about the counseling department at the Inn because this is where I slotted in. One full-time supervisor, two part-time counselors, and a host of student interns and volunteer counselors make up a group that provides free counseling to residents as long as they are at the Inn.
Many residents have never had the opportunity for mental health counseling and therapy. Some are skeptical at first. Many are profoundly grateful and ready—so ready—to talk, to share their stories, to be heard and seen and cared about.
For me, providing a safe place for residents to put down the burdens they have been shouldering, sometimes for a lifetime, has been a challenge and an honor. In the midst of often-terrible stories, smoldering fires of pain and hurt, there are piles of ashes. With time, and attending, the piles of ashes begin to shift, and the proverbial phoenix begins to rise as residents realize their strengths, resilience, and value.
Sometimes we as counselors see and hold the strengths and abilities of our clients for them until they can recognize it in themselves. Sometimes there is only pain. I have learned that grief is not linear, and there are some wounds that will always leave scars.
But I have also learned that sharing pain, allowing others to hear the stories, is a profoundly healing experience. Sometimes people are stuck in their stories, and they only need for the story to be truly heard and understood for what it is, even (or especially) if it is terrible.
Sometimes residents are ready. They are ready for change. They are ready to try something different. They are ready to shed the habits and patterns of the past.
There is humility, but there is also hope. Being a part of this program has been rewarding in ways I never could have anticipated. I can’t wait to see what the next year brings.
Nancy Rosenberg is a counselor and author of Outwitting Stress: A Practical Guide to Conquering Stress Before You Crack. She wrote this column for The Dallas Morning News.
Sorrow and Grace at Graduation
(The Dallas Morning News, 9 June 2012)
It’s embarrassing to fall apart in front of people you don’t know very well. It’s especially mortifying if the breakdown is unexpected. Yet that is exactly what happened to me a couple of weeks ago, at the end-of-the-year band banquet, where I watched in helpless sorrow as my 11th-grade daughter’s friends filed across the stage, receiving honors and kudos as they prepare to leave.
Got that? My daughter isn’t even a senior yet, and I’m already
falling apart.
To make matters worse, it wasn’t even a delicate falling apart.
I’m not usually a crier (although my husband might beg to differ). No, while a single, elegant tear might have been sweet, tender, and appropriate, I was a waterfall of angst.
To be fair, it really was a setup. I was fine until that stupid slideshow began, the one that juxtaposes baby pictures with senior pictures. That slideshow should be banned. It’s a microcosm of childhood, a split second in which the babies grow up, and it underscores how short our time with them has been. Our babies grow up way too quickly without that slideshow rubbing it
in.
And then the band director took the stage. I was sitting too far back for him to have noticed me in what Oprah so aptly describes as the“ugly cry,” but he knew. I wasn’t the only one in turmoil, and this clearly wasn’t his first rodeo. Normally a man of few words, he uncharacteristically became eloquent.
“Parents, this can be a difficult time,” he said, as I blew my nose and sniveled. “But the kids have outgrown you. The world needs them now.”
What was this? Tough love? I was listening.
“The world needs their talent, their intelligence, and their hearts. They have so much to give. It’s time to let them
go.”
I stopped crying.
“Kids, I want to pass along something I once read,” he continued. “Do what is expected. Then, do what is possible. The next thing you know, you’ll look up, and you will be doing the impossible.”
The kids were paying attention, rapt, and I had the unbidden image of a rollercoaster, clicking its way to the top. When you’re
on that rollercoaster, the clicking is exquisite, an agony of anticipation, a ticking time bomb of adrenaline. You know that what’s coming next is both exhilarating and terrifying. The ride is about to begin.
And then I remembered something else I had recently read, something about “the terror of middle school and the tedium of
high school.” The excitement in the room was palpable. The kids were ready. Crying at the band banquet wasn’t sorrow for my daughter or her friends. It was sorrow for me. And this isn’t about me. I’ve had 17 amazing years, but now it’s (almost)
time to stand back and let my daughter fly.
And time to zip up the ugly cry.
Nancy Rosenberg is the author of a novel, Waking in a Wide Land. Visit her website at www.NancyHRosenberg.com.
It’s embarrassing to fall apart in front of people you don’t know very well. It’s especially mortifying if the breakdown is unexpected. Yet that is exactly what happened to me a couple of weeks ago, at the end-of-the-year band banquet, where I watched in helpless sorrow as my 11th-grade daughter’s friends filed across the stage, receiving honors and kudos as they prepare to leave.
Got that? My daughter isn’t even a senior yet, and I’m already
falling apart.
To make matters worse, it wasn’t even a delicate falling apart.
I’m not usually a crier (although my husband might beg to differ). No, while a single, elegant tear might have been sweet, tender, and appropriate, I was a waterfall of angst.
To be fair, it really was a setup. I was fine until that stupid slideshow began, the one that juxtaposes baby pictures with senior pictures. That slideshow should be banned. It’s a microcosm of childhood, a split second in which the babies grow up, and it underscores how short our time with them has been. Our babies grow up way too quickly without that slideshow rubbing it
in.
And then the band director took the stage. I was sitting too far back for him to have noticed me in what Oprah so aptly describes as the“ugly cry,” but he knew. I wasn’t the only one in turmoil, and this clearly wasn’t his first rodeo. Normally a man of few words, he uncharacteristically became eloquent.
“Parents, this can be a difficult time,” he said, as I blew my nose and sniveled. “But the kids have outgrown you. The world needs them now.”
What was this? Tough love? I was listening.
“The world needs their talent, their intelligence, and their hearts. They have so much to give. It’s time to let them
go.”
I stopped crying.
“Kids, I want to pass along something I once read,” he continued. “Do what is expected. Then, do what is possible. The next thing you know, you’ll look up, and you will be doing the impossible.”
The kids were paying attention, rapt, and I had the unbidden image of a rollercoaster, clicking its way to the top. When you’re
on that rollercoaster, the clicking is exquisite, an agony of anticipation, a ticking time bomb of adrenaline. You know that what’s coming next is both exhilarating and terrifying. The ride is about to begin.
And then I remembered something else I had recently read, something about “the terror of middle school and the tedium of
high school.” The excitement in the room was palpable. The kids were ready. Crying at the band banquet wasn’t sorrow for my daughter or her friends. It was sorrow for me. And this isn’t about me. I’ve had 17 amazing years, but now it’s (almost)
time to stand back and let my daughter fly.
And time to zip up the ugly cry.
Nancy Rosenberg is the author of a novel, Waking in a Wide Land. Visit her website at www.NancyHRosenberg.com.
Kids Today--I'm Not Complaining
(The Dallas Morning News, 8 September 2011)
As parents, we shift from being the entertainers to having the best seat in the house
Last week, as my daughters and I were having a leisurely dinner at a little outdoor bistro, a woman walked by in nothing-left-to-the-imagination skinny jeans. Her hair was a mess, slapped into a time-to-clean-the-oven ponytail. Our eyebrows shot up in unison, but it was my 16-year-old who nailed the punch line: “That poor woman spent so much time putting on her pants she ran out of time to do her hair.”
Somewhere between the brute honesty of childhood and the little white lies of adulthood lies a magical time of laser-sharp observation and wit. This is part of the reason why teenagers can be so mean; it’s also the reason they can be so funny.
My youngest reminds me of the old saw about brevity being the soul of wit. She summed up her sister’s first attempt at waterskiing with similar droll aplomb: “Fail.”
I put thoughts of being entertained by my kids on my mental back burner and went about my business. A few days later, I noticed a woman at Kroger who had a cranky baby in the cart. He looked like he was about 15 months old; he had a mouth full of oversized teeth and an attitude. She was speed-shopping: I remember those days well. You race around the store with a ticking time bomb in the cart, hoping to make it home before the desire for a nap turns into a nap-denied fury.
I saw her again in the parking lot. She had the baby on her hip and was explaining to him every item she was loading into the back of her car. “Here’s the dog food, for Skippy. Here are the apples we’ll have later for a snack…” The baby was riveted, distracted, and momentarily forgetful of the fact that he was cranky. The lady appeared to be a very good mom. She was keeping her son entertained and averting a meltdown.
I put the two facets of familial entertainment together in an instant. As a parent, you don’t have to wait long before you begin to reap the harvest of the investments of time and energy that you make in your children when they are very young. Paybacks start with that very first smile, and they keep coming.
Some of the times I like best about being a parent are when my kids tell me things I didn’t know. Sometimes these are small notes of trivia from my Encyclopedia Brownish daughter, who tells me that dapple gray horses get lighter as they age.
Sometimes the issues are deeper, and I gain enlightenment on a level I wasn’t even aware existed. For example, I recently learned that, when a kid in middle school or high school is called “popular,” that isn’t necessarily a compliment. This “Mean Girl” pop culture has redefined “popular,” and now it can mean someone who is willing to do or say awful things to others just to try to get ahead in the teenage rat race. Someone can be “popular” in the same way that I think of someone being a “socialite.” The image I have in my head isn’t necessarily a good one.
I have to fight the tendency to be wistful as my girls get older. They don’t need me nearly as often as I like to think they do. Now that my oldest has her driver’s license, I’m hearing things like this: “We need to go to Sephora!” A split second later I realize that “we” means “they.” Sephora is much more fun without moms. I know this, but it still stings when you’re the mom.
Yet I am continually reminded that it’s not as though the show is ending; in fact, I think it’s just begun. Those early years were the warm-up, the prequel, the trailers for the show that’s about to start. Sure, little kids are cute and cuddly. But, once the kids get older, the real fun begins.
Nancy Rosenberg is a volunteer Community Voices columnist and the author of Outwitting Stress – A Practical Guide to Conquering Stress Before You Crack. Visit her website at www.NancyHRosenberg.com, or e-mail at NancyHRosenberg@hotmail.com.
Women Who Give--and Forgive
(Dallas Morning News, January 15, 2011)
Any news junkie knows that we’re in a particularly eventful news cycle. Every page, every screen runs thick with stories of political drama and angst. A new Congress, filled with ideologues of every stripe, swinging oversized gavels and missing important meetings — like, being sworn in. Congresswoman Gabby Giffords, a federal judge, a child and others shot in Arizona. Current events are keeping those of us attuned to such things riveted — and more than a little worried.
But last week I stepped, briefly, out of the news mine and back into my own world, where two friends are displaying such grace in the face of adversity that they forced my news-addled mind to consider higher things.
Both of my friends are dealing with sick, aging parents. And both of them were neglected tremendously during their childhoods.
The first is a 40-something writer living in Dallas. Her mother was a raging alcoholic during her childhood, never once attending school or sporting events, being physically and emotionally unavailable at every turn. The mother was a chain smoker and compulsive cleaner who watched television all day. “The only sign I ever saw from my mom that she wanted any kind of relationship was around the time of my birthday, once I had moved away,” my friend says. “She would send me four or five sappy, sentimental cards. It was the only way she could communicate any kind of affection. She never touched any of us kids; she sent us cards instead.”
My friend’s mother, who lives in Chicago, has had steadily declining health. Last week she was diagnosed with Stage IV pancreatic cancer. At first the doctors gave her 3-6 months. Now it’s two weeks.
So what does my friend do? She catches the next plane to Chicago and stocks up on rubber gloves. End-stage cancer is a messy affair, but there she is, taking care of the woman who never took care of her.
My second friend shares the story of neglect, but her parents took things one step further and were physically and mentally abusive. “I got my last beating when I was 19,” she says, without a trace of bitterness or anger. “I waited until the bruises and swelling went down, and then I got married.”
This friend’s mother, now in the lingering, difficult stages of dementia, is like an infant. So what does my friend do?
She drives out to the country, where her parents live, and she takes care of her mother one day a month so her father can have a break. They don’t talk much; they don’t ask questions. They don’t even know that my friend got divorced a few years ago. “They never ask me about anything personal, so why should I bother to tell them?”
But here’s the thing: Out of these tales of neglect and abuse come two of the smartest, most compassionate, most caring women I know.
One volunteers at an eldercare facility with her little dog, Angel, who jumps through hoops and plays dead and otherwise entertains old people who have very little joy in their lives.
The other was an elementary school principal for 30 years. She can tell tales for hours of children she connected with, kids who invited her to their graduations and then weddings.
I’m humbled by these women of grace. I’m in awe of their generosity, by their willingness and ability to care for those who hurt them. They are heroes. They are giants. And, in spite of what I see in the news, they give me hope.
(Dallas Morning News, January 15, 2011)
Any news junkie knows that we’re in a particularly eventful news cycle. Every page, every screen runs thick with stories of political drama and angst. A new Congress, filled with ideologues of every stripe, swinging oversized gavels and missing important meetings — like, being sworn in. Congresswoman Gabby Giffords, a federal judge, a child and others shot in Arizona. Current events are keeping those of us attuned to such things riveted — and more than a little worried.
But last week I stepped, briefly, out of the news mine and back into my own world, where two friends are displaying such grace in the face of adversity that they forced my news-addled mind to consider higher things.
Both of my friends are dealing with sick, aging parents. And both of them were neglected tremendously during their childhoods.
The first is a 40-something writer living in Dallas. Her mother was a raging alcoholic during her childhood, never once attending school or sporting events, being physically and emotionally unavailable at every turn. The mother was a chain smoker and compulsive cleaner who watched television all day. “The only sign I ever saw from my mom that she wanted any kind of relationship was around the time of my birthday, once I had moved away,” my friend says. “She would send me four or five sappy, sentimental cards. It was the only way she could communicate any kind of affection. She never touched any of us kids; she sent us cards instead.”
My friend’s mother, who lives in Chicago, has had steadily declining health. Last week she was diagnosed with Stage IV pancreatic cancer. At first the doctors gave her 3-6 months. Now it’s two weeks.
So what does my friend do? She catches the next plane to Chicago and stocks up on rubber gloves. End-stage cancer is a messy affair, but there she is, taking care of the woman who never took care of her.
My second friend shares the story of neglect, but her parents took things one step further and were physically and mentally abusive. “I got my last beating when I was 19,” she says, without a trace of bitterness or anger. “I waited until the bruises and swelling went down, and then I got married.”
This friend’s mother, now in the lingering, difficult stages of dementia, is like an infant. So what does my friend do?
She drives out to the country, where her parents live, and she takes care of her mother one day a month so her father can have a break. They don’t talk much; they don’t ask questions. They don’t even know that my friend got divorced a few years ago. “They never ask me about anything personal, so why should I bother to tell them?”
But here’s the thing: Out of these tales of neglect and abuse come two of the smartest, most compassionate, most caring women I know.
One volunteers at an eldercare facility with her little dog, Angel, who jumps through hoops and plays dead and otherwise entertains old people who have very little joy in their lives.
The other was an elementary school principal for 30 years. She can tell tales for hours of children she connected with, kids who invited her to their graduations and then weddings.
I’m humbled by these women of grace. I’m in awe of their generosity, by their willingness and ability to care for those who hurt them. They are heroes. They are giants. And, in spite of what I see in the news, they give me hope.
Tales from the Reunion
Dallas Morning News, Nov. 12, 2010
http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/opinion/viewpoints/stories/DN-rosenberg_13edi.State.Edition1.2063053.html
http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/opinion/viewpoints/stories/DN-rosenberg_13edi.State.Edition1.2063053.html
Special Times, Special Cigars
"Party of Five"
'Party of Five -- Five Venerable Dallas-Area Eateries Serve Great Food with Generous Dollops of Kitsch' (June 2002)
Paragons/The Herbfarm
September 2003
Stop Stress Now!
30 Ways To Beat Stress in Less Than a Minute, p. 90 (11/1/03)
"Hail to the Queen"
"Hungr-Busters. Dilly bars. Ice-cold slushes on an asphalt-melting summer day..." (August 2004)
30 One-Minute Stressbusters (Fitness Magazine)
30 One-Minute Stressbusters
By Nancy H. Rosenberg
No one is immune to stress, but studies have shown that what determines the amount of stress a person feels is not the circumstances that person is in, but rather their ability to deal with and respond effectively to stressful situations. With this in mind, here are 30 sure-fire, easy, quick antidotes to stress. Use one or use them all; either way, your stress level is sure to go down!
1. Take a mental vacation. Close your eyes and picture yourself in a serene setting. You're digging your toes in the hot sand of Kauai, hiking through majestic Redwoods, swooshing through fresh powder in the Rockies, or watching the sun rise over Mt. Rainier. Suddenly the problems you are facing seem less daunting, more manageable.
2. Chew a stick of sugarless gum, blow up a balloon, or eat an apple. Stress and tension are often stored in the neck and jaw muscles, so giving these tense muscles a workout can physically loosen things up and relieve stress.
3. Brush your teeth. The cool, running water and rhythmic, sudsy scrubbing can freshen both your breath and your outlook. Finish with a swish of pucker-popping mouthwash.
4. Take a whiff of lavender oil. Keep a vial in your desk, in your purse, in your car… wherever you tend to experience stress and need a little mental soothing. The scent of lavender has been shown to have a relaxing, destressing effect.
5. Do your Kegels. Even in the most tense moments you can tighten and then relax these invisible muscles, which will improve circulation, momentarily shift your focus, and remind you that there are better things waiting for you once you're past this source of stress!
6. Stroke your dog (or cat). Research shows that those who own and enjoy animals have dramatically lower levels of stress and anxiety. Your pet's silky fur and unabashed appreciation will have an immediate, calming effect.
7. Sit by a fountain, watch the rain, or drink a glass of water. Water in just about any form has a powerful ability to reduce stress.
8. E-mail a friend. The mental break and shift in focus will remind you of a pleasant relationship, and using the minute to reconnect will give you a brief respite from the stresses of the day.
9. Roll your shoulders and sit up straight. When a person is tense the tendency is to hunker down and physically turn inward. By sitting up straight and throwing your shoulders back you send a message to your body: "Everything will be fine; we're in control here!"
10. Listen to your instincts. When stress is wearing you down, pay attention to that still, small voice inside. Do you need to take a break, update your resume, dump a boyfriend who has so far been more trouble than he's worth? Sometimes all it takes is a minute to hear what your subconscious has been trying to tell you.
11. Slick on fresh lipstick. You'll look and feel better when you know your appearance is rosy and fresh.
12. Declutter the space around you. Clear off your desktop, stack papers to be filed, and create a visually clean workspace. Clutter is very stressful!
13. Imagine the possibilities. What would happen if you let go of an old grudge, reconnected with an old friend, or put a difficult issue with a spouse or coworker to rest? By imagining things differently you begin to shift your focus, and mental energies become powerfully redirected.
14. Take a deep, lung-bursting breath. Exhale fully, then do it again. We tend to take short, shallow breaths when stress mounts; breathing deeply breaks the cycle and helps restore inner peace.
15. Turn your face towards the sun. If you're indoors, find a spot by a window, close your eyes, and let the natural heat and light from the sun sooth and restore.
16. Make a list. When details threaten to overwhelm, taking a moment to put your thoughts on paper can free up valuable disk space in your brain!
17. Sing a song. Hum a few notes softly or belt out a show tune: music has a powerful ability to soothe when stress threatens our sense of well-being. Escape for just a minute: you're Frank Sinatra, J. Lo., or Sarah Brightman hitting the high notes.
18. Make a cup of tea. Herbal chamomile or green tea in particular have soothing, restorative powers.
19. S-T-R-E-T-C-H! Taking just 60 seconds to bend, twist and lengthen muscles can pulse needed oxygen to your brain and help clarify stressed, muddled thinking.
20. Get a mini-massage. Tap your spouse, partner, or a friend to vigorously knead the muscle groups in your upper back, neck, and shoulders, where tension and stress are stored.
21. Sit on a wall. You heard correctly: when you feel anxiety beginning to mount, stand about two feet from a wall and slide your back down the wall until you are in a sitting position, with your back vertically supported. Hold this position for 45 seconds. It's harder than it looks, and the end result is that blood is pumped to your glutes and thighs, two of the largest muscle groups in your body. The effort it takes to maintain the position and the resulting circulation boost will help clear your mind and improve reasoning abilities--key skills in reducing stress.
22. Grab a healthy snack. Fluctuating blood-sugar levels and hunger pangs are a sure-fire way to exacerbate feelings of frustration, but having a healthy snack--such as a small piece of fruit or a handful of whole wheat pretzels--can help head off stress at the pass.
23. Read something that makes you smile. It can be a Dave Barry column, the comics from the daily newspaper or your boss's latest efforts at writing a persuasive memo. Temporarily shifting your focus onto something funny helps your body shift into endorphin-production mode, which will calm frazzled nerves.
24. Organize a drawer. This small measure of productivity can briefly take your mind off of a stressful situation. Once you've straightened things up a bit, shift your focus back to the problem at hand, and use the now-clean drawer as a mental metaphor for taking charge of the stressful situation and bringing a measure of order to the chaos.
25. Practice saying "no." Imagine a few likely scenarios where people ask you to do things that you'd rather not do, then practice turning them down graciously. For example, if hoards of munchkins are knocking on your door to buy cookies, you can turn them down with a simple, "I'm sorry, I won't be able to buy cookies this year, but here are a few dollars that I'd like to donate to your group."
26. Remember to smile. Even when circumstances are challenging, keeping a smile on your face is a sure-fire way to make yourself (and others) feel better.
27. Watch fish swim. If you work in a high-stress environment, consider adding a goldfish bowl to your desktop accessories. Watching fish swim is an ancient method for reducing stress; the rhythmic, fluid motion of fish sooths and mesmerizes.
28. Write down your frustrations. The simple act of committing your frustrations to paper has a cleansing, cathartic effect. Once you've finished, read over your list, then tear it up and throw it away.
29. Call a reassuring friend. Even if you only have a minute, taking a quick break to call a friend who consistently has a positive mental attitude can help you readjust negative thinking patterns and approach difficult situations from a healthier perspective.
30. Count your blessings. When circumstances threaten to overwhelm, take a few moments to remember the things in your life that are working well. Think about recent successes or the people you love. When stress mounts, taking a moment to focus on the positives in your life can give you a sense of perspective and restore your inner peace.
Nancy Rosenberg has written for Redbook, Cigar Aficionado, Texas Highways, Health & Fitness Sports Magazine, America Online, WritersDigest.com and Parenthood.com. Rosenberg is the author of Outwitting Stress--A Practical Guide To Conquering Stress Before You Crack (Globe Pequot/Lyons Press).
By Nancy H. Rosenberg
No one is immune to stress, but studies have shown that what determines the amount of stress a person feels is not the circumstances that person is in, but rather their ability to deal with and respond effectively to stressful situations. With this in mind, here are 30 sure-fire, easy, quick antidotes to stress. Use one or use them all; either way, your stress level is sure to go down!
1. Take a mental vacation. Close your eyes and picture yourself in a serene setting. You're digging your toes in the hot sand of Kauai, hiking through majestic Redwoods, swooshing through fresh powder in the Rockies, or watching the sun rise over Mt. Rainier. Suddenly the problems you are facing seem less daunting, more manageable.
2. Chew a stick of sugarless gum, blow up a balloon, or eat an apple. Stress and tension are often stored in the neck and jaw muscles, so giving these tense muscles a workout can physically loosen things up and relieve stress.
3. Brush your teeth. The cool, running water and rhythmic, sudsy scrubbing can freshen both your breath and your outlook. Finish with a swish of pucker-popping mouthwash.
4. Take a whiff of lavender oil. Keep a vial in your desk, in your purse, in your car… wherever you tend to experience stress and need a little mental soothing. The scent of lavender has been shown to have a relaxing, destressing effect.
5. Do your Kegels. Even in the most tense moments you can tighten and then relax these invisible muscles, which will improve circulation, momentarily shift your focus, and remind you that there are better things waiting for you once you're past this source of stress!
6. Stroke your dog (or cat). Research shows that those who own and enjoy animals have dramatically lower levels of stress and anxiety. Your pet's silky fur and unabashed appreciation will have an immediate, calming effect.
7. Sit by a fountain, watch the rain, or drink a glass of water. Water in just about any form has a powerful ability to reduce stress.
8. E-mail a friend. The mental break and shift in focus will remind you of a pleasant relationship, and using the minute to reconnect will give you a brief respite from the stresses of the day.
9. Roll your shoulders and sit up straight. When a person is tense the tendency is to hunker down and physically turn inward. By sitting up straight and throwing your shoulders back you send a message to your body: "Everything will be fine; we're in control here!"
10. Listen to your instincts. When stress is wearing you down, pay attention to that still, small voice inside. Do you need to take a break, update your resume, dump a boyfriend who has so far been more trouble than he's worth? Sometimes all it takes is a minute to hear what your subconscious has been trying to tell you.
11. Slick on fresh lipstick. You'll look and feel better when you know your appearance is rosy and fresh.
12. Declutter the space around you. Clear off your desktop, stack papers to be filed, and create a visually clean workspace. Clutter is very stressful!
13. Imagine the possibilities. What would happen if you let go of an old grudge, reconnected with an old friend, or put a difficult issue with a spouse or coworker to rest? By imagining things differently you begin to shift your focus, and mental energies become powerfully redirected.
14. Take a deep, lung-bursting breath. Exhale fully, then do it again. We tend to take short, shallow breaths when stress mounts; breathing deeply breaks the cycle and helps restore inner peace.
15. Turn your face towards the sun. If you're indoors, find a spot by a window, close your eyes, and let the natural heat and light from the sun sooth and restore.
16. Make a list. When details threaten to overwhelm, taking a moment to put your thoughts on paper can free up valuable disk space in your brain!
17. Sing a song. Hum a few notes softly or belt out a show tune: music has a powerful ability to soothe when stress threatens our sense of well-being. Escape for just a minute: you're Frank Sinatra, J. Lo., or Sarah Brightman hitting the high notes.
18. Make a cup of tea. Herbal chamomile or green tea in particular have soothing, restorative powers.
19. S-T-R-E-T-C-H! Taking just 60 seconds to bend, twist and lengthen muscles can pulse needed oxygen to your brain and help clarify stressed, muddled thinking.
20. Get a mini-massage. Tap your spouse, partner, or a friend to vigorously knead the muscle groups in your upper back, neck, and shoulders, where tension and stress are stored.
21. Sit on a wall. You heard correctly: when you feel anxiety beginning to mount, stand about two feet from a wall and slide your back down the wall until you are in a sitting position, with your back vertically supported. Hold this position for 45 seconds. It's harder than it looks, and the end result is that blood is pumped to your glutes and thighs, two of the largest muscle groups in your body. The effort it takes to maintain the position and the resulting circulation boost will help clear your mind and improve reasoning abilities--key skills in reducing stress.
22. Grab a healthy snack. Fluctuating blood-sugar levels and hunger pangs are a sure-fire way to exacerbate feelings of frustration, but having a healthy snack--such as a small piece of fruit or a handful of whole wheat pretzels--can help head off stress at the pass.
23. Read something that makes you smile. It can be a Dave Barry column, the comics from the daily newspaper or your boss's latest efforts at writing a persuasive memo. Temporarily shifting your focus onto something funny helps your body shift into endorphin-production mode, which will calm frazzled nerves.
24. Organize a drawer. This small measure of productivity can briefly take your mind off of a stressful situation. Once you've straightened things up a bit, shift your focus back to the problem at hand, and use the now-clean drawer as a mental metaphor for taking charge of the stressful situation and bringing a measure of order to the chaos.
25. Practice saying "no." Imagine a few likely scenarios where people ask you to do things that you'd rather not do, then practice turning them down graciously. For example, if hoards of munchkins are knocking on your door to buy cookies, you can turn them down with a simple, "I'm sorry, I won't be able to buy cookies this year, but here are a few dollars that I'd like to donate to your group."
26. Remember to smile. Even when circumstances are challenging, keeping a smile on your face is a sure-fire way to make yourself (and others) feel better.
27. Watch fish swim. If you work in a high-stress environment, consider adding a goldfish bowl to your desktop accessories. Watching fish swim is an ancient method for reducing stress; the rhythmic, fluid motion of fish sooths and mesmerizes.
28. Write down your frustrations. The simple act of committing your frustrations to paper has a cleansing, cathartic effect. Once you've finished, read over your list, then tear it up and throw it away.
29. Call a reassuring friend. Even if you only have a minute, taking a quick break to call a friend who consistently has a positive mental attitude can help you readjust negative thinking patterns and approach difficult situations from a healthier perspective.
30. Count your blessings. When circumstances threaten to overwhelm, take a few moments to remember the things in your life that are working well. Think about recent successes or the people you love. When stress mounts, taking a moment to focus on the positives in your life can give you a sense of perspective and restore your inner peace.
Nancy Rosenberg has written for Redbook, Cigar Aficionado, Texas Highways, Health & Fitness Sports Magazine, America Online, WritersDigest.com and Parenthood.com. Rosenberg is the author of Outwitting Stress--A Practical Guide To Conquering Stress Before You Crack (Globe Pequot/Lyons Press).
Get Organized and Be Stress Free
A Song for my Father
In Praise of the Unexpected
I grew up with an unconventional father, and around our house things were never dull. My childhood is filled with memories of the unpredictable, the unexpected, and things and events that often left the neighbors amazed.
When things got a little too predictable, dad would come home with a new orange convertible, a trampoline, or a puppy. One day, in a burst of childlike enthusiasm, he brought home shiny new minibikes. My brother and I yelped with delight, and soon we were zipping across the fields in a crazy rush of wind and adrenaline. My mother was appalled.
Dad was the sort who really, truly didn't care what anyone else thought. Don't get me wrong: he was always the gentleman, never rude, always a paragon of gentleness and good manners. But when it came down to doing something a certain way just because that's the way everyone else did it… well, that's where he had trouble.
Instead, my father always seemed to find his own way. We had a farm out in the country where we'd spend weekends, and one year the fishing pond was overrun by a gar, a four-foot scavenger fish that killed all the catfish that we'd stocked the year before. Dad tried all the conventional methods for catching the gar, but nothing worked, and the battle soon escalated into an Old-Man-and-the-Sea type of primitive warfare. Man and Beast were locked in a deadly duel; my father was not to be outsmarted by a fish.
I'm not sure where my dad got the dynamite, but one lazy summer afternoon he headed for the pond with a look of fierce determination. My mother held us back, and we knew better than to ask what he was up to.
The explosion could be heard for miles. Dad won, and the story of how he killed the gar became something of a family legend.
My father's unusual methodologies were contagious. It wasn't long before my brother, Rocky, was demonstrating an uncanny knack for the unorthodox.
When Rocky was about 12 years old, my great-grandmother died, and her trusty old Chevrolet was parked in our driveway until my parents could figure out what to do with it. Rocky had an idea. He wanted to learn how to drive, and he wanted to learn by driving the old car around (and around, and around) our long, winding circular driveway.
True to form, my father didn't see a rational reason why this was not a perfectly reasonable request, so my brother was given the keys. Rocky would fire up the old Chevy and, with his best friend Cleo, the family mutt, together they put literally hundreds of miles on that old car.
At one point Rocky decided that it would be much more efficient -- and a cool way to beat the summer heat -- to drive the car if it didn't have any doors, so, taking a page from my father's book, he removed the doors from their hinges, and the boy/dog driveway marathon continued. I'm sure the neighbors were aghast.
My father's ability to take stock of a situation, see the problem, and fix it grew to monumental proportions when I was in junior high. We moved out of a large city and into the country, but after a year or so it became apparent that the one school there was woefully inadequate. So what did my dad do? He sold his business and started a school of his own. Now, almost 30 years later, that little school has a thousand students and is widely regarded as one of the best private schools in Texas.
My father's skill was passed on to me in less obvious, more mundane ways, I think. One day I glanced in the rearview mirror on the way to an important business function and realized that my nose was shiny and I'd forgotten pressed powder. In a pinch, I opened a tin of peppermints, swiped my finger around the peppermint dust, and patted it across my nose and cheeks. It worked like a charm, and I smiled to think that dad would approve. Every time I mix pancake batter in the blender or put the plants in the shower with me I'm reminded of the great unorthodox tradition that is my heritage.
So it was that my father passed on to us an ability to think "outside of the box," as the current saying goes. It's a tradition I'm proud to uphold, and the desire to look for new, possibly better ways of doing things keeps me curious and open to all sorts of possibilities.
Last week I asked my five-year-old to help me break up some pecans to put in cookies we were baking. "Mom," she said, "why don't I put these pecans in a baggie and break them up with the back of an ice cream scoop?" I beamed. The ice cream scoop worked beautifully, then we ran to the phone to tell grandpa.
(Author's note: I've been told that my childhood memory recalled the gar incident incorrectly. The dynamite wasn't used after all because he was afraid it would cause the dam to burst. I guess the boom I recall was either the shotgun blasts from hunting season, or a complete figment of my imagination. At any rate, a chemical called roatenone or something like that was used, which killed ALL the fish, so then the pond could be restocked some months later with good, garless fish.)
I grew up with an unconventional father, and around our house things were never dull. My childhood is filled with memories of the unpredictable, the unexpected, and things and events that often left the neighbors amazed.
When things got a little too predictable, dad would come home with a new orange convertible, a trampoline, or a puppy. One day, in a burst of childlike enthusiasm, he brought home shiny new minibikes. My brother and I yelped with delight, and soon we were zipping across the fields in a crazy rush of wind and adrenaline. My mother was appalled.
Dad was the sort who really, truly didn't care what anyone else thought. Don't get me wrong: he was always the gentleman, never rude, always a paragon of gentleness and good manners. But when it came down to doing something a certain way just because that's the way everyone else did it… well, that's where he had trouble.
Instead, my father always seemed to find his own way. We had a farm out in the country where we'd spend weekends, and one year the fishing pond was overrun by a gar, a four-foot scavenger fish that killed all the catfish that we'd stocked the year before. Dad tried all the conventional methods for catching the gar, but nothing worked, and the battle soon escalated into an Old-Man-and-the-Sea type of primitive warfare. Man and Beast were locked in a deadly duel; my father was not to be outsmarted by a fish.
I'm not sure where my dad got the dynamite, but one lazy summer afternoon he headed for the pond with a look of fierce determination. My mother held us back, and we knew better than to ask what he was up to.
The explosion could be heard for miles. Dad won, and the story of how he killed the gar became something of a family legend.
My father's unusual methodologies were contagious. It wasn't long before my brother, Rocky, was demonstrating an uncanny knack for the unorthodox.
When Rocky was about 12 years old, my great-grandmother died, and her trusty old Chevrolet was parked in our driveway until my parents could figure out what to do with it. Rocky had an idea. He wanted to learn how to drive, and he wanted to learn by driving the old car around (and around, and around) our long, winding circular driveway.
True to form, my father didn't see a rational reason why this was not a perfectly reasonable request, so my brother was given the keys. Rocky would fire up the old Chevy and, with his best friend Cleo, the family mutt, together they put literally hundreds of miles on that old car.
At one point Rocky decided that it would be much more efficient -- and a cool way to beat the summer heat -- to drive the car if it didn't have any doors, so, taking a page from my father's book, he removed the doors from their hinges, and the boy/dog driveway marathon continued. I'm sure the neighbors were aghast.
My father's ability to take stock of a situation, see the problem, and fix it grew to monumental proportions when I was in junior high. We moved out of a large city and into the country, but after a year or so it became apparent that the one school there was woefully inadequate. So what did my dad do? He sold his business and started a school of his own. Now, almost 30 years later, that little school has a thousand students and is widely regarded as one of the best private schools in Texas.
My father's skill was passed on to me in less obvious, more mundane ways, I think. One day I glanced in the rearview mirror on the way to an important business function and realized that my nose was shiny and I'd forgotten pressed powder. In a pinch, I opened a tin of peppermints, swiped my finger around the peppermint dust, and patted it across my nose and cheeks. It worked like a charm, and I smiled to think that dad would approve. Every time I mix pancake batter in the blender or put the plants in the shower with me I'm reminded of the great unorthodox tradition that is my heritage.
So it was that my father passed on to us an ability to think "outside of the box," as the current saying goes. It's a tradition I'm proud to uphold, and the desire to look for new, possibly better ways of doing things keeps me curious and open to all sorts of possibilities.
Last week I asked my five-year-old to help me break up some pecans to put in cookies we were baking. "Mom," she said, "why don't I put these pecans in a baggie and break them up with the back of an ice cream scoop?" I beamed. The ice cream scoop worked beautifully, then we ran to the phone to tell grandpa.
(Author's note: I've been told that my childhood memory recalled the gar incident incorrectly. The dynamite wasn't used after all because he was afraid it would cause the dam to burst. I guess the boom I recall was either the shotgun blasts from hunting season, or a complete figment of my imagination. At any rate, a chemical called roatenone or something like that was used, which killed ALL the fish, so then the pond could be restocked some months later with good, garless fish.)